Confession Time – Week 2

Week 2
Starting weight: 257lbs (it has been worse)
Current weight: 251lbs
Loss : 4lbs!!!!
Loss to date: 6lbs
Exercise: unbelievably old school levels of bad.

Learns: exercise less, eat more, it would seem! The truth is I was sitting at the dining table last night in long-faced, guilt-laden misery facing the need to exercise off 1000 calories this is weekend to keep my average at 1400 per day. It was not a good week. The weight loss is a miracle.

Exercise took second place to work, to avoiding torrential rain, to feeling cold and tired. I did some yoga on Knackered Thursday. The yoga felt wonderful – until I slipped repeatedly on the rug and gave up thirty minutes in to the practice, a sludgy, tangle-legged heap softly weeping tears of leaden-faced exhaustion. My back was stretched beautifully, so beautifully it ached enough to stop me sleeping and still aches now. Mea culpa.

Dinner on several days was not planned, proper food was skimmed over in favour of an evening of a chicken shish kebab (it’s ok, it’s grilled chicken and salad, ha bleedin’ ha) and an evening of my husband’s glorious (but generously caloried) cooking. Farewell 1400 average, hello 1600.

Ok, it’s not terrible, but MyFitnessPal shows it as a bar of RED above my target line. For a goal oriented person, this hurts. And I feel guilty about the lack of exercise as it lets me enjoy the nicer things in life. Diets are about denial. I don’t want denial. I want to have the lovely stuff – and know that I have to earn this.

So the lesson for this week is: earn your food. No matter how many calories you decide to have each day, consider them as calories that need to be earned. You burn them just to exist, burn some more to live. Want some dry toasted mixed seeds and some single origin honey on that gut scouring, parsimonious plain porridge? How about some truffle oil on that Jerusalem artichoke soup? Or, dare I say it, a rare rib eye steak with a warm grilled salad of avocado, tomatoes and red onion dressed with lime juice, handfuls of coriander and a liberal, suicidally high dose of flaky sea salt*? Excellent! Now get off your arse and earn it.

* Because you know, just know, that avocados love salt more than the cat likes murdering the hall carpet.

PS: I can’t help but remember a tale about the diet this week shows up on next week’s scales. I’m not looking forward to next Saturday…!

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